Meathead Monologue

hazel

as we speak there are tigers pouncing in my eyes.
if you lean in far enough, squint, you can see.
you can see the gold and black and the orange, and all together you might mistake it for fire.
i'll tell you now that the fire isn't in my eyes, it's in my heart. and maybe if you dig far enough into me,
you can feel it, hot and heavy.
the tigers live in a world of greenery and and flowers
and love. and they lay around all day knowing they are allowed to with out punishment.
the leaves bathe their body in color and the gold reflects
in the sun, and they are beautiful.
you might even mistake them for the sun itself,
but that's somewhere else inside me too.

r.k.